Master, Will You Ever Learn?
by MaraLSky
Summary: Obi-wan wakes up with a bad hangover, and discovers his worst nightmares were just that.


The room was still and silent. The two men that inhabited the room were both sleeping fully clothed. One of them, a tall, young blond man, dressed in black with a slender braid behind one ear, sat in a luxuriously upholstered chair, obviously had fallen asleep keeping watch over the other man, who lay on the edge of a large, satin covered bed. This man had coppery hair and a beard, and was quite disheveled looking even taking into the account he had fallen asleep in his tunic, pants and boots.

The red haired man began to stir as the warmth of the sun began to creep through the man-sized hole of the expansive picture window that encompassed nearly the entire wall of the room. He moaned pitifully, and his eyes quickly shutting against the harsh daylight that threatened to cause his head to explode. Instinctively, he rolled over, muttering a word that he very seldom used. As he turned, his hand smacked the knee of the younger man, jolting him awake with a startled cry.

"Ahhhh! Keep it down!" the bearded man whispered painfully, clutching his head. He groaned again, the movement causing him yet more agony.

The young man, now fully awake, looked both relieved and delighted. "Master!" he said loudly, causing his master to glare at him through bloodshot eyes. "You're awake! I was getting worried…you kept…talking in your sleep."

"Anakin," the master said in a hoarse whisper.

Anakin leaned closer to Obi-wan, and then recoiled as he caught a whiff of his breath. "Yes, Master Obi-wan?"

Obi-wan gritted his teeth. "If you don't stop shouting, I'll tell Padmé about Corellia. But you never know, she might like men in pink…"

Anakin quickly lowered his voice, realizing that Obi-wan's ears were not perceiving sounds at normal level. "Master…uh…what do you remember?"

Obi-wan groaned. There were a variety of images that threatened to overwhelm him, but the last thing he remembered was…

"YOU'RE A SITH LORD!" Obi-wan sat straight up, and tried to crawl away from Anakin, but quickly found that this movement was far too painful in his state. Tears of pain were streaming from the corners of his eyes. He looked at Anakin, obviously frightened. "But you have all your limbs! And you don't have the creepy black mask!"

"Master—" Anakin tried to cut into Obi-wan's mad raving.

But Obi-wan either didn't hear him, or didn't care to. "You'll never find them, Vader! They're hidden away!"

"Master…"

"I can't believe you hurt her, Anakin!" Obi-wan continued on, "You killed her! Your own wife! And torturing your daughter's boyfriend is NOT GOOD! And cutting off your son's hand…what were you thinking?"

"MASTER!" Anakin shouted, breaking the whispering rule. If Padmé had to hear of Anakin walking around in a pink dress, so be it. Last night's binge obviously hadn't agreed with Obi-wan's mental health. Obi-wan whimpered, covering his ears, glaring from the other side of the bed at Anakin, as if his shouting had confirmed all of Obi-wan's claims.

Anakin took a deep breath and once again lowered his voice. "Master, you were drunk. And apparently hallucinating…"

"Hallucinating?" Obi-wan moaned skeptically.

"You were out cold for hours…except, every once and awhile, you'd start muttering in your sleep." Anakin explained scratching his head. "You said something about a 'clone army' one time. Later on, you were rambling about Alderaan and 'billions of lives crying out' or something like that. Oh…" Anakin suddenly looked a little disturbed. "Then there was… 'Anakin is the father, isn't he?'. Master, have I been up to something while intoxicated that you didn't tell me about…? I mean, you know I would tell you if I heard about you having any…un-Jedi-like experiences while you were drunk. Not that you did anything like that last night, Master! You were just…" Anakin's voice trailed off, sounding somewhat anxious.

Obi-wan crawled back into the bed and flopped flat onto his back. "Anakin, what happened last night?" He closed his eyes tightly, as if trying to shut out some memory.

"You told me to go find the Changling that tried to kill Pad—the Senator…and I asked you what you were going to do. You said 'to get a drink'." Anakin shrugged helplessly, and continued. "The Changling was out cold when I found her. I think she had a run in with the bouncer. It turns out she was some anti-Gungan protester…that's why she was trying to kill the Pad—the Senator. Then I went back to find you and…uh…you were slumped over the bar, blabbling about some planet called Kamino. By the time I got you back to Pad—er, the Senator's apartment, you were out cold."

"Anakin," Obi-wan began as he covered his eyes with his hands. "Are you telling me the last thirty years…never happened? That there are no cloned soldiers? That Palpatine isn't a Dark Lord of the Sith? That you didn't become one? That Padmé hasn't bore you any children? That the Jedi are all alive and well? That there was no giant space station that could blow up planets? That you didn't kill me? That I'm _STILL ALIVE?!_"

There was a long silence as Anakin processed this non-sense. Then Anakin spoke up very softly and carefully, as if fearing what would happen if he upset the madman that his Master had become. "Well, Master. When you put it that way…no. They didn't happen." He sighed wearily, obviously trying to contain the exasperation he felt with the older man. "Master, must we go through this every time you drink? You know you can't hold your liquor."

Obi-wan's only answered with a pitiful groan.

Anakin shook his head sadly, and rose from his chair to leave the room. "Master, will you ever learn?"


End file.
